The Chalice of the Lost
by Speaks For The Dead
Summary: A mage gets lost in the woods, and meets a Garou. Weird stuff ensues. Please review! Chapter 3 is now up.
1. Meeting

Chapter One: Meeting 

Damien pulled over and stopped the car on the hard shoulder. He got out and stretched, then observed his surroundings. A deserted stretch of highway between Seattle and Redland City, it didn't have much in the way of scenery, mostly forests and hills. But still, there was _something_ that seemed to call out to him. He slipped on his duster, then locked the car and leaned against it, lighting a cigarette. For a moment he just stood there, smoking and enjoying the early spring breeze.

Then his gaze fell on a path in the grassy ground, little more than a trail, which wound its way to the bottom of a nearby hill. Damien shrugged, and began walking on the path. After a few minutes, he reached the bottom of the hill, and saw that the path went around it. He walked on, and soon reached a point where another path branched out into the woods. He stopped, smiling to himself. After a second's pondering, he went back to his car, sat at the wheel and started it. It took him a few minutes of slow, careful driving through the high grass to reach the hill. He got out, then grabbed his old book bag. In deference to his high school days, the bag still bore an old Nine Inch Nails patch. Damien quickly stuffed some items into the bag: his wallet and car keys, an extra clip for the handgun that was already in the bag, a couple of roadmaps, a pack of cereal bars. From the icebox in the trunk, he took two bottles of mineral water, and slipped them in his bag. Then he stared intently at his car and the hill, marking the location in his mind.

Ready, he turned to the path and followed it once again to the crossing. He took out another cigarette and lit it. He caught a flicker of motion from the corner of his eye, and looked up.

To see a small brown hare looking quizzically at him from a few feet away. Damien chuckled to himself, and the hare hopped back onto the trail, into the woods. _At least, it's not a white rabbit_, he thought. Smiling again, he followed the trail, all senses alert, listening for anything that might sound out of the ordinary.

He walked for what felt like hours, but when he checked his watch, he was mildly surprised to discover that only twenty minutes had passed. The feeling that had drawn him here was still there, growing slightly stronger with each step he took. The young man walked on, determined to find out what lay ahead, drawn as though by a magnet.

After a while, he came to a small clearing, maybe twenty feet across, roughly circular. On one side, at the bottom of a small mound, a small spring gave birth to a happily burbling stream which went its tinkling way into the forest. Something about the clearing struck Damien as indefinably _odd_, almost as though its layout wasn't entirely natural. There were two flat stones, side by side close to the spring. They looked smooth and worn, entirely moss-free. On the other side of the clearing, he found the ancient remains of a fire pit, carefully dug into the ground and ringed with stones.

Then it struck him. No evidence of human activity. That was what felt disorienting. Not a single soda can, candy wrapper, or discarded newspaper. It was odd considering the clearing looked like the ideal camping ground, the ground smooth and rock-free, covered in thick grass. Damien shrugged, then sat on one of the two stones, thinking. Something about the clearing seemed to awake an old memory, half-forgotten words and images. _A Glen_, he thought. _A place where nature is untouched, pure…_

So deep in thought he was, he only noticed the crow when it landed on the stone next to him, and cawed. Startled, Damien looked up quickly, his hand automatically going to the knife at his waist. Then he looked down and saw the bird, right next to him.

"Hey, you scared me, little dude!", he said, smiling.

The crow looked up at him, tilted its head, and cawed again.

"Eh. I'm afraid I don't have anything for you, little dude," Damien said. Then he opened his bag, and took out a cereal bar. "Unless you want a bite of that", he added. He broke off a small piece and stretched his hand out to the crow. The bird looked up at him again, then examined the young man's hand. After a few seconds, having seemingly decided that the cereal bar was to its taste, it pecked the morsel from Damien's palm and flapped a few feet away, evidently enjoying its snack.

Damien smiled, then broke off about half of the bar, and ate the other half, putting the empty wrapper back in his bag. He drank some water, then stood up. The crow, undisturbed, looked at him again and cawed.

"Well, it was nice meeting you. I don't suppose you know where this trail goes, do you?", he asked, feeling a little silly to be talking to a bird. The crow didn't even dignify the question with a caw, and turned its back on Damien. The young man shrugged, and turned to leave the clearing, resuming his walk.

After a time that felt both like several hours and a few minutes, Damien found himself in another clearing, almost identical to the one he had left behind. After a closer look, it was exactly the same. There were the two flat stones, the old fire pit, and the spring. Confused, Damien glanced back over his shoulder. The trail was behind him, losing itself into the woods. He looked at his watch, and wasn't all that surprised to find that it had stopped. The hands still marked 4:15. Looking up, he saw the sky, still blue, but darker now, as if the sun was going down somewhere beyond the tree line. On an impulse, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. The small screen only showed a blinking "No Service" message. Sighing, he put the phone back in his pocket. _OK, something's going on here_, he thought. His time sense was still accurate, or so he hoped, even though he had no way of knowing how long he'd been walking. It felt like dusk, however, and he didn't exactly enjoy the thought of being lost in the woods. He sat on one of the stones, debating what to do next. _It's not like I have tons of urgent stuff to do… so I might as well relax, enjoy the moment, and spend the night under the stars_, he thought. Having decided so, he stood up and searched the clearing for some firewood, instinctively picking up only fallen branches and twigs. When he had what he thought was enough for a decent fire, he tore a few pages from the note book he always carried in his bag, and soon got a small fire going. He ate two cereal bars, drank some water, and washed his hands and face into the stream.

Then he sat close to the fire, his back against a large log, and pulled a book out of his bag, a battered, dog-eared copy of Dan Simmons' "Song of Kali". Strangely, even though the temperature should have gone down with the night, especially this early in spring, the small fire was enough to keep him comfortably warm, and he read quietly for a while. When the light from the fire was no longer enough to read by, he put his book away, and simply sat there, smoking in silence. When he was finished, he rubbed the butt out on the ground, and absent-mindedly put it in his coat pocket. Then he stretched down against the log, using his bag as a makeshift pillow, and soon fell asleep.

He woke up some time during the night. His time sense told him he'd been sleeping for three hours at best, and his fire had gone out. He sat and looked up and felt a strange, childish joy. The sparse clouds he'd seen earlier in the day had broken, and the full moon bathed the clearing in its cool silver glow, blurring the shapes slightly, and accentuating the shadows, so that everything had a dream-like quality. Smiling, he looked around, and saw a shape curled by the spring. The moonlight was enough to allow him to recognize a wolf, and he suddenly felt very cold. Trying to avoid any sudden movements which might awaken the animal, he slowly pulled his legs beneath him into a crouch, and put his hand on the hilt of his knife, the kris dagger Julianne had given him for his twentieth birthday.

Even this slight motion might have been too much, because the wolf's eyes snapped open and stared across the clearing, directly at him. Damien froze, a small part of him noting the reflected moonlight in the wolf's eyes.

It padded towards him, its glowing amber eyes never leaving him, and stopped a few feet away. Damien could see it very clearly, in more detail than he felt comfortable with. It was a smallish animal, its coat an odd blend of reddish-brown and lighter, almost blond fur. It wore a necklace of some kind around its neck, and Damien thought that its master might be close by.

The wolf came closer still, and Damien was very aware of his heart pounding, idly wondering if the wolf could hear it too. It stretched its muzzle towards Damien and sniffed the air, tilting its head slightly. Then it stepped back a foot or so. Damien took the opportunity to stand up as slowly and calmly as he could, his eyes never wavering from the predator.

The wolf cocked its head up to follow Damien, then moved forward again, and circled him slowly, sniffing at his legs and hands. The young man fought the urge to run, and forced himself to remain stone-still while the wolf continued its examination. Then he realized that there was something about this wolf that felt slightly out-of-place, although he couldn't pin down what it was. He closed his eyes, mouthing a short mantra. When he opened his eyes again, he could see the wolf's aura. And stared in shock, his mouth hanging open. The wolf had a strong, vibrant aura, more powerful than any he'd seen before. Before he could wonder what it meant, the wolf moved a few feet away and _changed_.

It shivered, then seemed to stretch out, its shape changing smoothly, like a special effect in a movie. It stretched and changed until it stood on its hind legs, then kept changing until Damien was left staring at a young woman, who looked at him with an obviously amused expression on her face.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of the metamorphosis he'd just witnessed. Thoughts flickered. _Shit, it's a werewolf, changed into a human, that can only mean one thing, and I heard they don't like mages, they can grow to ten feet tall, can rip your head off with a slap!!_

He took a step backwards, and stumbled against the log. Letting out a yelp, he fell flat on his back.

The young woman laughed, as if he was the funniest thing she'd seen in a long time. She looked to be somewhere close to his own age, but definitely not older than twenty-five. She had short, curly hair that looked dark blond under the moonlight. She was of medium height, five-six tops, he guessed, with a lean build. She  was barefoot, wore jeans and a plain black t-shirt, and the necklace that had been around her neck in wolf form. She also had a rather large knife in a leather sheath, tied to a belt-loop of her jeans. His mind registered all this in the seconds it took her to reach him, extending her hand to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you… I thought you were another traveler, just like me", she said.

Damien stood up, trying to keep a distance from her, looking at her uncertainly. Then, when he'd regained a semblance of calm, he spoke.

"Well, uh, you did startle me… I didn't mean to intrude, if this is your territory, or whatever… I'll be on my way now", he stammered, backing away slowly.

She laughed again. "No, please, stay", she said. "It's been a long time since I've had some human company…"

Damien stopped, and only then noticed he'd drawn his kris, the moonlight glancing off the long wavy blade. He stepped forward, still unsure. Not picking up any hostility from her, he calmed a little, put his knife back in its sheath, and sat rather heavily on the log.

The young woman crouched a couple of feet way from him.

"I'm Christie Johns", she said, holding her hand out. "They usually call me Smells-Like-Rain, though."

"Damien Valentine", he answered automatically, reaching out to shake her hand. She had a strong grip and firm hands, he noted. "Sorry about my reaction", he added, "but that's the first time I see a werewolf somewhere else than on a TV screen…"

"Don't worry about it… I didn't mean to scare you", she said, then paused. "You're a wizard, aren't you?", she asked.

"Yeah, _bani_ Euthanatos, from the Cascade Chantry", Damien answered without thinking, still recovering from the shock. Then he turned to Christie. She was staring at him oddly.

"A what?", she asked, puzzled.

"It's the Tradition I belong to…", he added helpfully.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm a Ragabash", she replied. "Of the Silent Strider tribe…"

"My turn. A what?", Damien asked with a slight smile.

"It's my Auspice, the phase of the moon I was born under", she explained. "Ragabash is the new moon phase."

Damien grinned.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?", he asked.

Christie laughed again. "No, silly! Why would I kill you?"

His cheeks burning, Damien said "Well, I was always told that werewolves hate humans and want to kill them…", he trailed off.

"No, we don't hate _all_ humans", Christie said. "Just the ones that go around defiling and raping Gaia." After a short pause, she added "It's true that most of us don't trust wizards, though…"

"And you do?", he asked.

"Well, if I felt I couldn't trust you, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you, Damien", she said with a feral grin that somehow chilled him to the bone. Then she laughed at his sudden recoiling motion. "Just kidding!", she said.

Ready to jump, Damien gave a nervous chuckle, then cleared his throat.

"So, uh… what are you doing around here?", he asked.

"Oh, I was just having a little walk in the woods, on my way back from Redland City", she answered with a smile. "What about you?", she asked in return.

"Eh. I was actually going to Redland City… and then I felt something odd when I stopped on the highway, not far from here. I wanted to see what it was, and then I found myself here", he replied. "I think I've gotten lost, though… I tried to leave this clearing and found myself back here."

Christie laughed again. "Not used to the woods, huh?", she asked without malice.

"You could say that.", Damien answered.

"Well, the Gauntlet is actually pretty thin out here, so it's kinda normal that you got lost…", she said.

"The Gauntlet? You mean I've been walking in the Umbra all this time?"

"Sounds likely… I've heard that there are some places like this Glen, where you can cross into the Umbra without even realizing it. That's how you must have gotten lost."

She stopped speaking suddenly, and stood up, glancing around nervously. Damien sensed her nervousness and was on his feet instantly, his hand on the hilt of his kris.

"What is it?", he asked, unaware that he was whispering.

"I'm not sure… there's an odd smell in the air.", she replied in the same tone. She sniffed at the air a few times, then mouthed a curse. "They've found me", she said. "We're gonna have to go. Can you step sideways?", she asked Damien.

"Who's found you? And what d'you mean, step sideways?", Damien replied. "Now that I think about it, why should I come with you?"

"Vampires. That's why I was leaving Redland City. Apparently, the Leeches don't like having pranks played on them. Looks like they got pissed off big time.", Christie answered.

Damien stared at her for a second, then grabbed his bag, took his P229 handgun, loaded it, and slipped it into his coat pocket.

"I don't know about you", he said, "but I've fought vamps before. I was lucky to come out of it alive, and I don't want a rerun of that. Where did you say we were going?"

Christie sighed. "We're gonna have to step sideways, cross into the Umbra. They won't be able to follow us there. Then we can go back to your car. What do you think?"

"Good plan", Damien answered. "Except I've never crossed into the spirit world on my own. Do you think you can bring both of us through?"

Christie smiled thinly. "No problem. I've done it before with my old pack. Just stay close to me."

Damien nodded. Christie drew her knife, a large, wickedly curved blade that shone under the moonlight. She glanced up, then angled the blade so as to catch a reflection of the moon. Then she put a hand on Damien's shoulder.

"Just look into the light", she said. "It won't take long."

Damien obeyed, trying to focus on the situation. After a few seconds, he became aware of an odd, _disjointed_ sensation in his limbs. The sensation was following by a low rushing sound, like waves reaching the shore. Then it was gone, with a wrenching suddenness that made him stagger as if he'd been sucker-punched. His ears buzzed fiercely for a few seconds, then that was gone too.

"We're through", Christie said, putting her knife away.

Damien looked around, trying to see a difference in his surroundings. The forest looked the same, except that the moonlight felt different, brighter somehow. Then he noticed the sounds were sharper, the colors stronger, as though all his senses had somehow sharpened to superhuman levels. He still felt odd, and turned to Christie. She flinched back, then stared at him with an expression of wonder.

"What?", he asked.

She goggled at him. "You… you're _glowing_, Damien…"

Damien looked down at himself. He didn't think he looked different at first, but then he noticed an odd, faint bluish-white glow to his skin and clothes. He stifled a giggle, then looked at Christie. "So it's true", he said. "I was told that mages have a sort of glow when they cross into the Umbra, but I'd never seen it myself!"

"I wouldn't know", she replied. "I've never stepped sideways with a wizard before. Looks kinda cool, though", she added with a smile. Then she looked down, and her eyes went wide, her smile disappearing. "Why does your shadow have four arms and wings?", she asked in a tight voice.

Damien stared at her as if she'd suddenly gone insane, then he realized what she was saying. "That would be my Avatar", he said. "It's what makes me a mage", he explained as she stared at him blankly. "I've only seen my Avatar twice before, and it looked like the Hindu god Garuda… the one with four arms, wings and the head of an eagle?", he went on.

Christie nodded curtly, her eyes still fixed on Damien's shadow. "Right. Shall we go?", she asked after a moment.

Damien nodded his assent. "Absolutely. I know you said the vamps couldn't follow us here, but I don't feel like learning the hard way that they can."

Christie walked ahead a few steps, then stopped short.

"What's wrong?", Damien asked when she turned around to face him.

"Uh, I've got good news and bad news…", she said, looking at a point that seemed to be a few feet behind him.

"Let's hear it", he replied.

"Good news is, I've been here in the Umbra before", she said.

Damien smiled. "OK, so what's the bad news?"

"Bad news is, there used to be a moon path here that led straight back to where the highway should be."

"And?"

"It's gone. And we're not alone."

Damien's smile faded. "What do you mean, not alone?", he asked, then saw that she was apparently looking at something behind him. He turned around slowly, ready for everything.

But not for a gigantic bird, towering over him, with a reddish glow where its eyes should have been. Damien jumped back with a shout, just as the bird, apparently a crow of gargantuan proportions, let out a caw that sounded like a thousand birds cawing at the same time.

It cocked its head down to look at them, then spoke, in a bass voice that sounded like pebbles being rattled in a glass.

"**Human**", it said, its glowing stare on Damien. It tilted its head towards Christie "**Garou.**" After a pause, it spoke again.

"**Why you in Tokk's territory?**"

Damien opened his mouth to say something, but Christie was faster than him.

"Please forgive us, Father of Crows. We were only seeking to escape from our enemies, and we didn't mean to intrude upon your hunting grounds", she said.

Damien looked at her strangely, but she paid him no attention.

The huge spirit cocked its head, glaring at Christie.

"**Why Garou run from enemy? Who be you?**"

"I'm Smells-Like-Rain, Ragabash of the Silent Striders, bound to the Hundred Hands caern in Seattle", she said, obviously used to introducing herself to a talking bird the size of a pick-up truck.

Seemingly satisfied, Tokk turned to Damien.

"**And who the human?**"

Damien cleared his throat, looking nervously at the bird.

"Damien Valentine, _bani_ Euthanatos. Of the… of the Cascade Chantry in Seattle", he finished.

Tokk stretched its neck, its huge beak a mere foot away from Damien's face.

"**Mage? First Tokk see. Tokk have no quarrel with you.**"

Damien and Christie looked at each other in surprise, as Tokk turned around with surprising grace for its size. Then it launched into the air with a flap of its immense wings and flew away.

When Tokk was gone, Damien looked at Christie again with an odd expression on his face. "Lemme get this straight", he said. "Tokk figured out I was a mage, and got _scared_?"

"I'm as surprised as you", Christie replied. "But look at it this way. If all you knew about mages was that they can make things happen just by thinking it, wouldn't you be at least a little apprehensive when you meet one for the first time? Especially if you don't know what said mage is capable of?"

"I guess you're right", he said. "Although I was told that most spirits treat mages like potentially dangerous and misguided children that are not were they should be", he added.

"Eh. I can see why. I've only met one other mage before you, and I got the impression that he was potentially dangerous. More than that, actually", she said with a smirk.

"Whatever. Can we just get going? Or are you as lost as me?"

"I'm not lost", she replied with an ominous note in her voice. "And we can go."

Damien knew better than to answer. He didn't know Garou, but he knew women, or at least he thought so. And he definitely knew when he was on slippery ground. So he walked on after her.

After a long time of walking in the forest, the mist blocking their sight after ten yards, Damien spoke, his voice breaking the silence.

"Hey, Christie."

"What?"

"How did you know Tokk's title was Father of the Crows? Did you meet it before?"

"No. But I know that spirits like to be flattered, and that was the first thing I could think of", she replied with a wry smile.

"Oh. And here I thought you knew what you were doing", he said with a grin.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?", she replied, feigning annoyance.

Damien smiled again, then looked around. "Hey, shouldn't we be seeing the highway, now?"

Christie stopped. "You're right. We should be out of the woods by now. We should at least be in the open."

"Well, we're not. I'm gonna try something.", he said.

"What are you gonna do?"

"See if I can use Correspondence to go right back to my car."

"What?", she asked in a puzzled tone.

"I'm gonna try to teleport to where my car should be."

"Oh, okay. I didn't know mages could do that."

Damien didn't answer. He simply stood there focusing his thoughts. After a few seconds, his hands forming the _vajra mudra_, he closed his eyes and visualized his car. He pictured it in his mind until he could see it as clearly as if he stood right next to it. When the picture was clear, he formed another mudra, and tried to picture a path from where he was standing to where his car was.

And stopped after a minute, his head pounding fiercely enough to make him wish he had brought some aspirin. He opened his eyes, to find Christie looking at him.

"So? I take it what you tried didn't work?", she asked.

He sighed. "Nope. I can 'see' my car, but I can't find a way to get there by teleporting. Looks like we're gone have to walk", he said, massaging his temples.__


	2. Dreams on the Road

Author's note: here's the disclaimer I forgot on the first chapter. The usual: White Wolf Game Studio owns Mage: the Ascension and Werewolf: the Apocalypse. I'm not making any money from this (I only wish I did). Chapter 2: Dreams On The Road 

They'd been walking for an indeterminate time, when Christie stopped and looked around. Damien followed her gaze, seeing nothing more than the Umbrascape around them: a seemingly endless forest, the trees lost in the mist that seemed to be everywhere, shifting trails in the undergrowth, and faint threads of light connecting the trees together.

"What's up?", he asked.

"Dawn's coming. We better find a place to stop for the day", she answered.

"Why?"

"Because the only light in the Umbra comes from the moon. During the day, it's lit by the sun, which means close to zero visibility. And it's a bad idea to travel the Umbra during the day unless you know exactly where you are and where you want to go."

"Oh. Okay", he said with a nod. "So what are we gonna do? And for that matter, how come we still haven't reached my car? When I found the clearing, I had only been walking for about twenty minutes…"

Christie sighed. "I don't know. I'm not exactly an expert on the Umbra, y'know. But…", she paused, staring intently ahead. "It looks like there's a Domain ahead, kinda like the clearing where we met, only an Umbral version. We might be able to find shelter there."

"Okay. Fine then, let's go", Damien said. _I hope you're not as lost as me_, he thought.

Christie went ahead, and Damien followed her, looking warily around.

They soon reached the Domain, which looked like another clearing to Damien. He set his bag on the ground and sat down with a sigh of relief. Technically, he'd been walking for most of the night, and he was grateful for the respite. His stomach growled. He sighed in annoyance.

"What's wrong?", Christie asked.

"Nothing. If I'd known I would be traveling in the Umbra, I would have brought some food…", he said.

The young Garou chuckled. "If that's all, I'm sure I can catch something for dinner", she said. And before Damien could reply, she shifted into her wolf form and loped off into the woods.

Damien watched her go, still unnerved by the transformation, then stood at the edge of the Domain, looking into the woods. The quality of the light changed gradually, until the forest was lost in a haze, effectively blocking sight after a few yards.

Christie soon returned, still in wolf form, carrying a rabbit in her mouth. Damien hadn't heard her, and he jumped back when he saw the small wolf standing right next to him, almost grinning.

Christie dropped the rabbit, then shifted back to human form, absent-mindedly wiping a speck of blood from her cheek. Damien unconsciously took a step back, which made her chuckle. Then she set to skinning and cleaning the rabbit, while Damien went to gather firewood from the nearby trees.

They soon had a small fire going, the spitted rabbit roasting over the flames. Damien took a bottle of water from his bag, and tossed the other to Christie.

"What were you _really_ doing in the woods?", she asked after a few moments.

"What do you mean? I told you I sensed something in the woods that seemed to call out to me. And when I tried to take a closer look, I ended up in the clearing where we met. That's all", he answered not quite edgily.

Christie nodded. "Just wondering", she said. "Why were you going to Redland City?", she asked after a pause.

Damien smiled thinly. "I was just going to take care of some business", he said, chuckling darkly.

"Oh." She didn't ask, and he didn't offer any explanation.

After they'd eaten, Christie wandered around the clearing in wolf form, sniffing at the trees. Then she turned to Damien and barked. He was astonished to find that he understood her perfectly.

"Go on and get some rest", she said. "I'll take first watch."

Damien nodded numbly, then stretched out on the springy grass. He didn't feel really tired but after a few minutes of lying down with his eyes closed, he slid into a deep sleep.

* * * *

While Damien slept, Christie took to slowly circling the clearing, sniffing at the air every so often. Her gaze fell on Damien, sleeping peacefully close to the fire. _He's kinda cute when he's asleep_, she thought. She padded closer to him and sniffed at him. The scent of his leather duster tickled her nostrils, and there was _something_ else, beneath the odor from his boots and coat, something with a darker undertone, and she stepped back, scrutinizing him closely. He was a shade over six feet tall and looked to be in very good shape for a human, dressed in black from head to toe: steel-toed boots, jeans, a plain cotton shirt and his duster. Without a doubt, he was quite attractive by human standards, with his lean build, closely cropped black hair and dark blue eyes. She sniffed at him again, trying to determine the origin of the strange scent. His body odor was as human as possible, only giving a vague hint that he wasn't exactly what he appeared to be.

Then she moved away from him, and went to lie down across the clearing, all senses alert. She lay there, watching the woods, lost in the Umbral haze of daylight, and thought idly about the first wizard she'd met. He had had the same sort of strange undertone to his scent as Damien, and she suddenly knew what it was. The scent of death. Whatever the reason, Damien Valentine had the smell of death on him, and her instincts told her that he should be watched closely.

* * * *

Damien dreamed… 

He was standing on the bank of a stream, under windswept clouds, the scent of cherry blossoms heavy in the air. He looked around, and saw a small, red-painted wooden bridge crossing the stream, a rough path winding from the bridge into a grove of cherry trees some fifty yards away. He shrugged, and followed the path, crossing the bridge and coming on the other side. He walked on, towards the trees, one hand automatically going to the knife at his waist.

At the bottom of one of the trees stood a small stone statue of the Buddha, no more than two feet tall, resting on a pedestal shaped like a lotus blossom. Damien took a closer look at the statue: it was the traditional rendition of the Buddha, sitting in the lotus position, its hands forming the _abhaya mudra_, its head ringed by the halo symbolizing the purity of the soul. Damien smiled, and noticed the carvings at the base of the statue. Examining them, he found that they were Sanskrit letters, together with Japanese ideograms. He didn't know Japanese, but Sanskrit was among the first things Julianne had taught him, and he had no trouble reading it. "_This grove marks the final resting place of he who was in life known as Master of the Blade, Wielder of the Vajra Sword, Merciful Heart of the Warrior. You who enter here, pay your respects to the memory of a great man, and you shall be rewarded. Desecrate his shrine, and the Ten Thousand Hells will take your soul as tribute._"

Damien couldn't decipher the Japanese ideograms inscribed below, but he didn't need to. Still smiling, he stood up and entered the grove, his feet making no sound in the thick grass that covered the ground. In the exact center of the grove, he saw a small shrine, bearing another statue of the Buddha. The shrine also bore a small cup filled with sand, in which were stuck three joss sticks, and a votive plate bearing Japanese ideograms and Sanskrit words. "_Noburo Mochizuki of the Masaemon clan. Your memory shall live forever._"

Intrigued, Damien examined the shrine again. There was a small hollow at the base of the statue of Buddha which adorned it, a hollow shaped like the six-pronged symbol of the _vajra_ thunderbolt.

Before he could take a closer look, the grove shimmered and began to fade, and he felt himself waking up. Trying to cling to the dream, he fought against the awakening, but to no avail.

* * * *

And found Christie crouched over him, her hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

"Wake up", she was saying. "Your turn to keep watch."

Sitting up, he nodded, trying to hold on to the memory of the dream and preserve the feeling of utter peace it had brought him. "Sure", he said, then watched as she shifted to wolf form again and padded around the clearing until she found a comfortable spot. He simply stood there for a moment, then took out a cigarette and lit it, earning a brief glance from Christie. He didn't know that wolves could give a single look such an expression of disapproval. She shook her head, then turned her back on him and settled down.

Damien shrugged and sat down, smoking in silence. Once again, when he was finished, he rubbed the butt out on the ground and put it in his pocket. On a sudden impulse, he shrugged off his duster, then reached for his bag. He took his Buddhist rosary, then sitting cross-legged in the full lotus position, laid his kris and gun in front of him, within easy reach.

Then he began chanting the Om Mani Padme Hum mantra, softly enough to let Christie sleep.

He sat there, meditating, his eyes closed but fully aware of everything around him, until the 'twilight' came, and with it the rise of the moon. He sensed movement just beyond the clearing, and focused on that spot: a small swallow-spirit perched on a branch. It looked at Damien, then at Christie's sleeping form, and flew away with barely a sound.

Damien could have stayed there meditating for a long time, but he knew they had to leave soon. So he broke his focus, and stood up slowly, then slipped on his duster and retrieved his weapons. Then he went to wake Christie, and she opened her eyes as soon as he touched her shoulder. He fought the urge to pat her head or scratch her, and took a step back when she shifted to human form.

She yawned then looked up at him.

"Sleep well?", he asked.

"Yeah. I had a really nice dream too", she said with a grin.

"Oh, really?", he asked, trying to sound only politely interested.

"Yeah… it was so peaceful, so quiet… I was near this small river, and there was this funny little bridge, all painted red…", she said, then broke off when she saw the look on Damien's face.

"Did you see a cherry tree grove, by any chance?", he asked.

"No, but I could smell them", she answered. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Because I had a dream too… I saw the bridge and the stream, and when I crossed the bridge, I ended up in a cherry tree grove with a funeral shrine in the middle of it", he said.

"This is getting seriously weird", she said.

"No shit, Sherlock", he replied with a wry smile. He drank some water from his bottle, then turned back to Christie. "Did you see anything else in your dream?"

"Um, there was something shiny, that looked like a key or something, on a tree close to the bridge, I think…" She frowned. "I was going near it to get a closer look, but you woke me up before I could see it clearly."

Damien shook his head. _What the hell's going on?_, he thought. _Well, one thing's for sure, we have to find that place, wherever it is. Redland City can wait_.

"I know what you're thinking", Christie said, breaking his train of thought.

"You do?"

"Yeah, you're thinking that we gotta find that place. I know, 'cause I'm thinking the same thing", she said.

Damien sighed heavily. "We don't even know where it is. It could be in Japan for all we know."

Christie shook her head. "No, I don't think so… I got the clear impression that it was in the Umbra somewhere, but it wasn't a place I'd encountered or heard about before…"

"That's great. It could still be anywhere, and I have no idea of where we should start", Damien replied, sounding more annoyed than he'd intended.

The young Garou shook her head again, this time with a commiserated look on her face. "You don't know much about Umbral travel, do you?", she asked with a slight smile.

"Not exactly."

"Well, we know where we wanna go, right? All you have to do is keep that place fixed in your mind, and you'll find a path towards it eventually. Someone once told me that navigating the Near Umbra was essentially about trusting your instinct", she said.

Damien nodded. "Okay, well, if it's that easy, why don't we go now?", he asked.

Christie smiled. "Yeah, let's go", she answered, unfazed by his sarcastic tone.

Damien sighed again, then picked up his bag and went after her.

* * * *

Not long after they'd left, Christie was scouting ahead, in wolf form again, and Damien thought he heard noises on the wind. They sounded like some kind of animal, but he couldn't tell where they were coming from. He walked on, and almost stumbled on Christie, standing in the middle of the faintly glimmering moon path they'd been following. The Garou was listening intently to something, her ears pricked up, her whole body bowstring-taut. Damien barely had time to draw his kris, when _something_ burst out of the underbrush a few yards further. It was so strange that at first he didn't believe what he was seeing. It appeared to be a large quadruped, roughly the same shape and size as a small bull, and seemed to be made of smoke, its outline rippling in the faint breeze, its reddish eyes glowing like coals. The bull-thing took a step towards them, and Christie shifted again, this time to a huge, towering form that made Damien feel small and weak. She turned eight feet tall, her now-furry body a blend of man and wolf, with a wolf's head, legs and tail, her arms ending in huge taloned hands. Damien stumbled back, then narrowly dodged the bolt of lightning the bull-spirit had just shot from its horns.

"What the hell's that thing?", he shouted.

Keeping her eyes on the spirit, Christie snarled an answer, the words slurred in her growl.

"Tempestoro! Bane Elemental!"

Damien nodded unconsciously, and watched in awe as Christie launched herself at the monstrous bull-spirit, and landed on its back, one arm wrapped around its thick neck, her other hand ripping at its side. The Tempestoro bellowed and shook, seeking to dislodge the Garou from its back. Christie hung on, and slashed at it again, her paw seeming to go straight through its smoky 'flesh'. Damien ran to them, dodging the lightning discharges, and came within range just as the Tempestoro shook off Christie. She landed in a snarling heap almost ten feet away, then was on her feet instantly. The bull-spirit turned to Damien, and he was close enough to see the small flames that flickered from the beast's nostrils.

It took a ponderous step forward, then charged abruptly. Damien rolled to the side and came up on his feet, his kris slashing into the Tempestoro's side. Its bellow changed from 'angry' to 'hurt', and Damien knew he'd hit. The beast turned around, a long gash in its flank, from which oozed a sluggish, smoking ichor. Damien whispered a mantra, then joined his hands in the _vajra mudra_, summoning power. The blade of his kris glowed with a purple light, flickering like a flame. Then it grew and lengthened, turning into a sword of purple flame.

The Bane charged again, but Damien could see that it was slowing down, its injury draining it. He had plenty of time to see it coming this time and stood his ground, sidestepping at the last minute. Then he swung his arm, and his flaming blade came down with the roar of a well-stoked fire. It almost sliced off the spirit's head. Somehow it moved away, and almost wrenched the sword from Damien's hand.

Then he heard a snarl, and Christie was standing next to him, slashing at the beast's neck, separating its head from the rest of its body. The Bane collapsed, its smoky flesh already dissolving.

Damien breathed a sigh of relief, and cut off his spell. The purple flame went out, and he was holding his kris again. Christie shifted back to human and looked at him.

"Neat trick. Thanks for the help", she said simply.

"Don't mention it", he replied, retrieving his bag from the ground and walking ahead.

She caught up with him after a few seconds, and patted his shoulder.

"Seriously. That was a cool trick with your knife", she said with a thin smile. "Didn't think that wizards could kick ass like that."

"Eh. I try my best", he replied, struggling to keep a straight face. _If only you knew_, he thought. He said nothing and kept walking, still picturing the cherry tree grove in his mind.

* * * *

Damien's time sense was now more or less 'tuned' to the Umbra, and it told him they'd been walking for about two hours, when they reached a river, cutting straight through the moon path. The glowing trail of light bridged the river without interruption, and they kept walking across the Umbral waters. Damien couldn't help but look down, and saw strange shapes in the waters, shapes he recognized as fish that didn't exist anywhere but in the Umbra. Shrugging, he walked on after Christie, and they kept going at the same steady pace.

About a half-hour later, the two travelers stopped at the bottom of a small hill. They were standing at the entrance of a cave, its interior almost too dark to make out anything apart from the moon path that disappeared into it.

She turned to Damien, who was looking at the ground and the hillside around the cave's mouth.

"Find anything?", she asked.

Damien didn't answer right away. He stooped to pick up something, and held it up triumphantly. "A-ha!", he exclaimed. "Exactly what we were looking for", he finished.

"What did you find?", she asked, already knowing the answer.

"A cherry blossom. So we might be getting close", he said with a boyish grin.

"Yeah, and I'm ready to bet the way is through that cave", she added, hoping that she was wrong. She had always _hated_ caves.

Damien's smile faded slightly. "I was kinda hoping you wouldn't say that", he said. "I don't like going into small dark places without knowing what's ahead."

"Then that'll make two of us", she said, patting his shoulder. "But I don't think we got a choice."

Damien sighed heavily, but headed off into the cave, praying they wouldn't encounter anything else than bats. Christie went after him, her knife in hand.


	3. A Parting of the Ways

_Author's note: usual disclaimer about me not owning Mage or Werewolf. The characters are all mine, though. So is the Sanctuary._

**Quick lexicon** (for those of you who might be unfamiliar with the Euthanatos, Buddhism, and Sanskrit in general)

**Acarya:** Mentor

**Bodhisattva:** Sanskrit word meaning "Enlightened One".

**Mahatma:** Sanskrit word meaning "Great Soul". Used as a honorific, as in Mahatma Gandhi.

**Mudra:** a hand sign, each with a specific meaning.

**Shravaka:** Disciple

**Vajra:**one of the symbols most commonly used in Buddhism. The word vajra can mean both thunderbolt or diamond, depending on the context, and is a metaphor for supernatural power. It's usually represented as a double-sided trident.****

Chapter 3: A Parting of the Ways 

Five minutes after they'd entered the cave, Damien noticed a diffuse glow that seemed to come from the rock walls, bathing the tunnel in a pale light not unlike that of the moon. Behind him, Christie walked slowly, her eyes flickering nervously over the bare rock and the packed earth, her hand tightly clutching her knife.

The further they moved, the weaker the light became, until the tunnel was as dark as a moonless night. Scattered on the ground were more cherry blossoms, almost a trail of them, filling the still air with their fragrance, and Damien saw small candles flickering in little niches carved into the rock. The light was more than enough to see by, and it lent its flickering to the deep shadows it cast into the tunnel.

Several minutes and an indeterminate distance later, the candles were accompanied by Japanese ideograms painted on the rock in fading red ink. Just as he moved to get a closer look at one of the symbols, he heard a muffled curse behind him. He turned, to see Christie standing in the middle of the tunnel, one hand extended in front of her.

"What's wrong?", he asked.

"I don't know", she answered in a puzzled voice. "Some kind of barrier, I think…"

Damien looked around, up and down, but could see nothing. Then he realized he'd felt something, very faintly, when passing through the same spot where Christie was standing.

Closing his eyes, he whispered a mantra, then looked again.

This time, the barrier was plainly visible, a wall of glowing bluish-white ideograms which filled the tunnel. Damien stretched his arm out, and his hand passed through the barrier, causing the ideograms to glow slightly brighter.

"Try to put your hand through", he said, examining the barrier.

Christie obeyed. Her hand was stopped as though by a solid wall, while the ideograms at the point of contact flared in a blue flash.

"No good", she said. "It's like a wall or something."

Damien smiled thinly. "Yeah, someone probably set up a banning ward…"

Christie gave him a blank stare.. "Pretend I don't understand, and explain that again", she said.

Damien cleared his throat. "It's a warding spell", he explained. "It looks like it was made to stop anything that's not a mage from going any further." He thought for a second. "Then that would explain why there were no guardians at the entrance. Lemme see if I can find a way to bypass it."

The Garou nodded, and took a step back. Damien laid both hands on the ward, and closed his eyes. He focused on the barrier, then slowly reached out with his mind, mentally touching the glowing ideograms. He felt great power, a immensely strong will holding the barrier in place. He surmised that the barrier could be unmade, but by someone with much greater power than himself. Reaching out again, he tried to gain a sense of barrier's maker, and had a mental glimpse of a tall man, clad in what looked like a samurai's armor, holding a spear of some kind. Then the picture was gone, with a swiftness that made his head hurt.

Damien took a step back, one hand going to his temple. Then he tried a different approach, attempting to sense a weak point in the barrier, but to no avail. The ward was as strong as if it had just been woven. The young Euthanatos sighed in annoyance.

"No good", he said. "I can't even find a weak spot in it."

"So what's the plan?", Christie asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

"Well, it looks like you're not going through", he answered. "Sorry", he added with an apologetic smile.

Christie sighed, then looked around again. "Oh, well. Looks like my path ends here." She turned around. "It was fun knowing you", she added. "Look me up when you're back in Seattle." Then she left the way they had come, whistling softly to herself.

Damien watched her go with a slight smile, wondering if he might just take her up on her offer, then turned to the way ahead. The candlelit tunnel seemed to stretch on into the distance, its bare walls offering no hint of an exit. With a sigh, he set his bag down and sat down. He smoked a cigarette, ate a cereal bar and drank some water. After this brief pause, he started down the tunnel, wondering who had set up such a ward to protect a funeral shrine. On a sudden thought, he checked his watch and cell phone. His watch was working again, indicating the time as 3:15. As he thought, his phone was still showing a "No Service" message. Shrugging, he went on.

* * * *

After less than twenty minutes, he finally saw the end of the tunnel. Smiling, he walked a little faster, and soon left the tunnel behind him.

When he looked around, he had a powerful sense of _deja-vu_, the scenery identical to that of his dream. The stream, red bridge and windswept, calf-high grass somehow instilled him with a feeling of peace and harmony, and he found himself wishing he'd known about this place sooner. _Like before Ashley died_, he thought grimly. _She would have loved it_. Chasing the unwelcome thought with a shake of his head, he went on towards the small copse of trees that stood close to the bridge. Christie had mentioned something shiny on one of the trees and he intended to take a look at whatever it was.

Coming closer, he became aware of another sound besides that of the wind, a faint chatter, as of several people whispering quickly to each other. One hand reaching into his pocket for his gun, he walked on, all senses alert.

When he came to the trees, he heard the branches rustle, and looked up, just in time to see a small squirrel, its bushy tail twitching, its beady eyes fixed on him. Damien ignored it and looked at the tree. He saw a red ribbon tied around the trunk, one end badly frayed, looking almost chewed. He looked up again, and saw that the squirrel was still looking at him, chattering to itself. Damien touched the ribbon, and the squirrel hopped down to another branch, this one almost level with Damien's face. It chattered again, and as if in answer, its chatter was echoed in the other trees. A second squirrel joined the first on the branch, this one seeming to glare at Damien. Then another, and a fourth came from the other trees. Damien chuckled, and one of the squirrels glared at him, almost as though trying to stare him down.

"_What is it doing here?_", a thin, high-pitched voice asked.

"_Me knows not… lost it is, maybe?_", another answered.

Damien was strangely unsurprised to hear the squirrels talk. Somehow he'd expected them to sound like animals in a Disney movie, and he felt oddly disappointed by their squeaky voices.

"_Lost, this one is? Me thinks not… me thinks the key it wants!_"

"What's that key?", Damien asked.

The squirrels ignored him, and kept on chattering amongst themselves.

"_What does it wants here, me wonders… maybe not a friend, maybe hurts us it wants…_", one of them said, with a quick worried glance at Damien. The gesture was so _human_ that Damien had trouble stifling a laugh.

"I don't want to hurt any of you", he said with a smile. "I just want to go pay my respects at Mochizuki's shrine", he added on a sudden hunch.

One of the squirrels glared at him with its beady eyes, its ears twitching.

"_It knows the Old Master_", it said. "_Not one of the Warring Fists, it is…_"

Damien started, and looked at the squirrel, recognizing the ancient name for the Akashic Brotherhood.

"You're right", he said. "I'm not one of the Warring Fists."

"_Then what is you?_", the squirrel asked, its eyes fixed on Damien.

"I'm a Tender of the Wheel", he replied, hoping the old name would sound familiar to the squirrels.

It was the wrong thing to say, however, as three of the squirrels jumped back up into the trees with what sounded like frightened squeaks. The fourth one remained where it was, looking at Damien with such a human expression of mistrust that the young mage unconsciously took a step back.

"_Tender of the Wheel_", it repeated. "_What does you wants here?_"

"As I said, I just want to pay my respects to Noburo Mochizuki's memory. Will you not allow me to do so?", he asked.

The rodent seemed to ponder Damien's answer, scratching its head. "_What does you gives for passage?_", it asked. "_Maybe you gives something good and we lets you pass through, maybe we does…_", it squeaked, a hopeful note creeping into its voice.

Damien shrugged. "Maybe I give you something, and maybe you give me the key in exchange?", he asked, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

"_The key? The key you wants? Maybe you gives something very very good, and maybe we lets you look at the key, yes…_"

Damien shrugged again, then took his rosary from his bag. It was well-crafted, the beads carved from soft-grained, light brown wood. The squirrel followed intently each of Damien's gestures, and hopped closer when he held the rosary up.

"_Praying beads? Yes, something good this is… maybe we lets you look at the key, yes…_", the squirrel said.

Smiling inwardly, Damien made as if to put the rosary back in his bag, and was rewarded by the squirrel hopping up and down the branch with something like frantic greed. "Is that it? It's worth more, a lot more than just a look at the key…", he said, mentally crossing his fingers and hoping the squirrel would fall for it.

It did. It stopped mid-hop and looked at him, rubbing its front paws together, its tail twitching.

"_More? Worth more than a look, you says?_", it asked, almost nervous. "_What does it do, me wonders?_"

"Eh. I can't just tell you that", Damien replied. "You'll have to find out by yourself. What you gain without effort has no value", he added.

The squirrel didn't answer, evidently pondering Damien's words. It looked at him, scratching its chin, its tail twitching, then moved closer. Damien once again pretended to put the rosary away. The squirrel began hopping up and down the branch again, darting quick, worried glances at the young mage.

"_Fine, you wins… gives me the beads, and me gives you the key…_", it said.

Damien stretched his hand out. "Deal", he said. The squirrel hopped forward and put its paw in Damien's hand. "_Deal_", it repeated, then climbed down the tree, and began scratching at a spot just in front of the tree. After a few minutes of feverish scratching and digging, it held up the key. Carrying it in its jaws, it climbed back to the branch and held the key out to Damien. As he had thought, the key was nothing else than the _vajra_ symbol, made of metal. The squirrel looked expectantly at him, and Damien handed the rosary to it. It snatched it from his hand, grasping it with both paws, then jumped back up into the tree.

Damien walked a few yards towards the bridge before allowing himself a wide smile. He wouldn't mourn the loss of a rosary bought at Pike's Place. He examined the 'key': made of a golden metal, the _vajra_ symbol shone in the sunlight. Tied to one end was still a piece of frayed red ribbon. Still smiling, Damien put it in his coat pocket and walked on, crossing the bridge.

When he came to the cherry tree grove, he saw something that hadn't been in his dream: a huge stone statue, towering several feet over him, of a man in samurai armor, spear in one hand, a huge sword in the other hand. The pedestal held no markings of any kind. On the other side of the path was the statue of the Buddha, its eyes closed, smiling its benevolent smile upon the young mage. Damien bowed to the warrior's statue, then knelt in front of the Buddha. Pulling another rosary from his bag, this one made of finely carved mahogany beads, he chanted a mantra. When he was finished, he rose, and entered the grove.

* * * *

The first thing he was aware of was the feeling of peace that blanketed the area. Then he noticed the smell of the cherry blossoms, their fragrance almost palpable. Smiling, he walked on, and reached the shrine. As he remembered from his dream, it stood in the exact center of the grove and held another statue of the Buddha, and the votive plate bearing Mochizuki's name. He stood in front of the shrine, admiring the craftsmanship of the carved stone, then took his lighter out and lit the three joss sticks. Then he took his rosary again, and knelt in prayer in front of the shrine.

After a few minutes of praying, he felt a change in the grove's atmosphere, a sense of a missing piece being fitted into a jigsaw. He finished his prayer, then stood. And noticed the faint golden glow around the statue of Buddha which adorned the shrine. When he touched the statue, it felt warm under his fingers. On an impulse, he took the _vajra_ key from his pocket. It too was glowing with the same faint golden halo, and felt warm. He moved his hand closer to the statue and felt his hand being drawn subtly towards the base, where the hollow was. He put the key into the hollow, patting it into place until it fit perfectly.

Then he stepped back, not knowing what to expect.

The statue's eyes opened slowly, shining with golden light, while a humming sound filled the grove, as though a thousand throats were chanting a mantra. The ground began to shake and rumble, the sound coming from behind the shrine, between the trees. Damien braced himself, almost expecting an earthquake, and watched in wonder as the trees parted while the ground between them rose then opened. Two carved stone pillars pushed up from the ground, covered with Sanskrit letters. Between them, the air shimmered like heat-haze. Then the shrine pivoted, until it was facing directly between the two pillars.

Damien took a cautious step forward, then went around the shrine, looking at the pillars, trying to read the carved letters. All he could decipher was the Om Mani Padme Hum mantra, repeated over and over again. Taking a deep breath, he approached the pillars, fully expecting a lightning strike or some similar fate.

Nothing happened, and he came closer still, looking between the pillars and trying to discern the other side. The shimmer was stronger now and blurred what he saw of the cherry trees beyond it. He looked around one last time, then closed his eyes, held his breath, and walked into the shimmer.

* * * *

There was no resistance and he walked easily through, feeling a deep _warping_ sensation in the pit of his stomach. He recognized the sensation as the side effect of a Correspondence gate, and was surprised to discover that the thought actually relaxed him.

Feeling solid ground beneath his boots, he opened his eyes, and let out a surprised exclamation. The cherry tree grove was gone. Instead, he stood in a bright, sunlit meadow, the air filled with the smell of rain-damp grass. He looked around, and saw a small hill not far away, crowned with a huge tree that spread its boughs to shade the hilltop. The sun was warm, but not hot, and small clumps of colorful flowers dotted the meadow. Turning away from the hill, he saw a building of some kind, its white walls reflecting the sunlight. Shading his eyes against the glare, he moved closer, until he could recognize the general shape of the building, and the large statue of the Buddha which stood close to it.

He sensed something behind him and turned around, towards the small hill. There now seemed to be someone sitting under the tree, where he was positive no one had been when he'd first looked. Deeply intrigued, he walked towards the hill and climbed up to the top. When he reached the tree's shade, he stared in wonder. The person sitting beneath the tree appeared to be nothing more than a beautiful Indian woman, clad in white robes which contrasted with her dark brown skin, her forehead marked with a single red dot over the third eye. She sat in the full lotus position, her eyes closed, her hands clasped in the _dhyana mudra_, a rosary around her neck. She sat there, unmoving, her lips quirking up in the slightest of smiles as she seemed to sense Damien's presence.

Damien simply stared at her, overwhelmed by the aura surrounding her, then caught himself and knelt quickly, then bent down until his forehead touched the ground.

"Forgive my intrusion, o Mahatma. I didn't intend to disturb your meditation", he said quickly, his voice quivering slightly.

She spoke, and her voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, ringing in his mind with pure, crystal-clear tones.

"Do not be troubled, child. Please, rise up", she said.

Damien obeyed and rose from his prostration, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.

"So it was you who reopened Mochizuki's gate", she said. "You passed through, and thus are worthy. Who are you?"

Still kneeling, Damien relaxed, the woman's voice incredibly soothing.

"Damien Valentine, Hand-of-Garuda, _bani_ Euthanatos, o Mahatma. Oathbound to the Cascade Chantry, in Seattle", he answered quickly.

"I am called Ashura", she said in return. "As a member of our Tradition, you are most welcome in this Horizon Realm, Damien."

Damien looked up quickly. He couldn't have been more surprised if he'd seen a mountain stand up and walk. She sensed his surprise and went on.

"You do not know of the Sanctuary?", she asked.

"Forgive my ignorance, o Mahatma. I had no idea that such a place even existed", he answered.

"Few among us have heard of the Sanctuary, and even fewer have visited it. If I may ask, how did you find Mochizuki's Shrine?", she asked.

"I was traveling the Near Umbra with… an unexpected guide, o Mahatma. And we both saw the Shrine in a dream. And, well, we decided to look into it. We found a tunnel, and passed through it, but my companion was prevented from going any further."

"How so?", Ashura asked.

"She was a werewolf, o Mahatma. The ward in the tunnel stopped her", he said.

Ashura nodded. "I see", she said simply.

Then before Damien could reply, he heard hurried footsteps behind him, and was surrounded by three men, obviously guards, clad in black fatigues, all armed. Their leader bowed deeply to Ashura, then turned to Damien.

"Who are you and how did you get here?", he asked, but without hostility.

Ashura answered for him.

"Do not trouble yourself, Edward. This young man is Damien Valentine", she said. "A member of our Tradition", she added with a subtle emphasis.

Edward nodded. "My apologies, Ashura. But we have to be extra careful these days."

"I know. But you should know better than to think I need protection, Edward", she replied.

Edward bowed stiffly and said nothing.

"How long have you been traveling, Damien?", she asked.

"Two days, o Mahatma", he answered.

"You are welcome to stay here as long as you desire", she said. "Edward, please tell Kamila we have a guest. Tell her to prepare a room for him."

"As you wish", the guard said with another bow. Then he walked away, his men following him closely.

Ashura opened her eyes and stood up slowly. "Stand up, Damien. I'll show you to the guest quarters", she said.

Damien rose, still averting his eyes. "Thank you, o Mahatma", he said.

"Am I so terrible to behold that you look away from me?", she asked, sounding highly amused.

"It's not everyday that I have the fortune of meeting a bodhisattva, o Mahatma. I was taught to always respect my betters", he said.

She smiled. "Well, I could argue that I am no bodhisattva, but I find your respect of the old customs highly commendable, Damien. Especially for a young man your age. Who was your _acarya_?"

Damien bowed his head, blushing slightly. "Thanks for the compliment. I was taught by Julianne McLellan, o Mahatma", he answered.

Ashura looked at him closely. "I didn't know Julianne had taken another student", she said simply.

Damien stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "You… you know her?", he stammered.

"Of course I do, Damien. Julianne was my _shravaka_", the Indian woman answered. "Now, let's get you settled down and refreshed, and I'll introduce you to the others", she continued, ignoring Damien's look of complete astonishment. She started down the hill, and Damien could only follow her, numbly wondering why Julianne had never mentioned her own Mentor. _I expect I'll probably get all the answers I need after I've had a good shower and something to eat_, he thought. _For the time being, I might as well relax and enjoy the vacation_.

On these thoughts, he followed Ashura down the hill, and towards the closest building.


End file.
